She was silent for a moment. “A nice man,” she finally said. “Just a nice, nice man. It’s horribly wrong that someone killed him.” She gave me a fierce look. “Are you helping Ash and Hal Inwood on this?”

I squirmed the teensiest bit. My aunt was not always pleased to have me poking into police matters. “Well . . .”

“They need you,” she said, her voice low and penetrating. “You notice things no one else does. Even if they won’t admit it, they need your help.”

A wave of sorrow went through me, grief for a man I’d never met, grief for all the people he’d left behind, and a bit of grief for myself, that I’d never had the opportunity to meet Brown.

“I’ll do what I can,” I said quietly. “I promise.”

*   *   *

The next day was a bookmobile day. Eddie, who had a secret cat sense for detecting the days he’d be riding with us, was already sitting on his carrier when I trod up the few steps from the bedroom and bath part of the houseboat to the kitchen and dining area.

“Mrr.” He pawed the top of the carrier.

“Yes, it is indeed a bookmobile day. See? I’m showered and dressed in appropriate clothing.” I held out my arms and turned in a circle. My library wear was dress pants, knit shirt, and loose jacket. Bookmobile wear was the same on top, but dressy jeans on the bottom. “And now, my fine furry friend, I’m going to eat breakfast and make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, at which point we’ll go on our merry way to spread joy and books across the land.”

“Mrr!”

“Well, yes, the two things are synonymous. It was a test to see if . . . well, rats.” I was staring at the inside of a refrigerator that had no milk and no jam, because I’d intended to get both yesterday and had completely forgotten.

It took me roughly half a second to come up with an alternate plan. “In you go, pal.” I ushered Eddie into his carrier. “Hope you don’t mind spending a bit of solo time in the car. You’ll be fine. It’s not hot, it’s not cold. It’s baby-bear temperature out there.”

Two minutes later, I was parking in the Round Table’s parking lot, sliding into a spot that was nicely shaded by a tall maple tree. “Be back as soon as I can, okay?” Eddie didn’t seem to be concerned about his pending abandonment. He yawned, settled his chin on his paws, and yawned again.

“Silly kitty,” I said, and found myself yawning as I crossed the lot and went in the front door and into a restaurant surprisingly crowded for a Tuesday morning in mid-September.